Lotus
by Lael Mae
Summary: (Final) Part 4 of Den of Iniquity. It's funny how this all becomes full circle. It starts the same, now it ends the same. [Matoba-NatorixNatsume, noncon elements]
1. Firsts

This will be Natsume's first exorcist meeting. Typically they're set on weekdays (as exorcism is a profession to these people), but Natsume is still a high school student. When Matoba suggests an upcoming one to be organized, Natsume sternly refuses to attend one, especially if it is on a weekday. Expecting such an answer, Matoba smiles and reminds Natsume that he is his apprentice; it is crucial to his spiritual development. He plans the first autumn meeting the following Sunday.

Under Matoba Seiji's guidance and exchange of his teachings, Natsume Takashi attends.

The past few sessions (that recently increased to a few weekday afternoons) is instructed in preparation of the meeting. As is typical with cultured business, there are rules and guidelines, certain things to say and not say, gestures that are encouraged and ones to avoid. (Such as asking a guest's identity when they are clearly wearing a mask. Or too much involvement with a shiki unless it was newly possessed, thus attracting expected attention.)

There is a lot of information to digest and a lot of it provokes questions and wonder in Natsume. Of course the inquires were curious and to be expected, as this is new to him, but they are still expressed in bias of ayakashi. Matoba is used to being provoked by Natsume's opinions, but when it concerns the business he works in, his reputation will be dangerously influenced by his charge's actions. He will have to make sure that the boy at least keeps his perspective of morals to himself.

Meeting attire is business casual, but often, and suggested by the prominent Matoba clan, kimono should be worn. "It's reminiscent of the older exorcist days," he explains; one shouldn't forget one's roots.

He offers Natsume a kimono, but the boy declines; his uncle had given him one of his. "Good." Matoba smiles slightly. Unsure how to interpret it, Natsume looks away. "But I'll have to provide you a haori with the clan's insignia."

Natsume wants to decline, but Matoba's adamant tone cuts through the rising objection. Little by little, he's becoming more a part of the exorcists, not humans, and of the Matoba clan, not his family. But it's hard to object to those that protect you.

Natsume puts his hands out and receives the iconic black haori infamously known by youkai. His amber eyes catch part of the white embroidered bullseye and passes a hand along the threads.

This will be his first exorcist meeting as a willing participant, as Matoba's apprentice, as a newborn exorcist.

* * *

><p>"What if Natori comes?" Natsume chokes out, the tightness in his throat unrelenting.<p>

Matoba understands the fear, and having Natori attend so early wouldn't be productive for that reason and more. He regards Natsume's hands quaking in his lap (wrinkling his uncle's dark red kimono), before steadying his own hand to finish the strokes on his writing. "Ever since I have taken you in, he hasn't made an appearance at a meeting. I have a checkpoint before entering the manor; you don't need to worry." He pulls his brush back and studies the letter for any imperfections or impoliteness. There are none. Proud of his skill, Matoba smiles to himself.

The brush is placed on its bed as the ink dries. Natsume worries his bottom lip, waiting for more reassuring words from Matoba.

The exorcist rises from the chabudai, taking the paper in hand. "I'll prepare some tea to ease your nerves." He motions for Natsume to rise and the boy follows, his frame curling into itself. "I can positively assure you that he won't trespass."

Lavender with some catnip is chosen, and Natsume watches Matoba brew the tea. It's only when the exorcist works with tea that Natsume studies the exorcist's fingers closely. They're slender and unexpectedly strong. He has seen the man practice his archery while he himself rested. He often wears gloves to prevent burns and callouses, but there are times he forgets to wear them. After returning from a sudden outing (exorcisms or hunting), his fingers are noticeably red and thick. It's fascinating to Natsume how someone can do such laborious things, yet look so refined when preparing tea. It must be an illusion.

Natsume hasn't noticed his hands went cold until he feels the warmth of the teacup melting into his palms. He sips, careful not to down the diluted mellow flavor because of his frayed nerves. When glancing at the exorcist, he notices the soft smile directed at him; Natsume looks away embarrassed. He's not used to that kind of look, whatever it is, and especially from this man.

He feels the tea take effect, nestling into tense muscles and a throbbing mind. Sometimes his heart picks up, but he remains unbothered. It's preferable than the spinning thoughts and fears.

Sometimes his breaths deepen, eyelids droop, and he falls into a dreamless sleep. It happens often, but Matoba reassures Natsume when it is brought up. The stress, the lessons, the tea all contribute. It's nothing to worry about. A natural phenomenon, besides the dreams he can never recall or the faint smell of smoke when he awakens. Something always feels off when he comes to, so Natsume blames it on his ever-persisting uncertainty. Matoba has been accommodating and careful ever since he offered protection to Natsume.

Natsume gently blows the surface of the tea, hoping the ripples would distract him from lingering doubts. It just might be his nerves of the upcoming meeting, after all.

Matoba regards the boy sipping from the cup for a moment. "Come to the Shuten Room when you're finished. I want to prepare and debrief you a little more before the meeting begins."

Natsume watches the exorcist leave from the small kitchen, regarding the bullseye insignia on his back and the black sleeves flowing behind him. The blond lifts his arm and pinches the sleeve before crumpling the silk fabric in his palm.

He hasn't thought that this man was capable of tenderness. Maybe it's because he's his apprentice, but Natsume wants to believe that Matoba could be a changing person.

* * *

><p>It's hard to dismiss the chatter around the grand hall, of exorcists and their practices and businesses, mundane catching up, but a consistent trend of the Matoba clan influence often surfaces. Every time the name buzzes by, Natsume can't help casting a look to the polished man. He isn't sure if Matoba doesn't hear or is used to this sort of gossip now; he carries on undisturbed with his mingling. It's not like all the gossip is in bad taste. The clan is reputable for reasons of power, support, and ruthlessness. Adding to that, the current leader himself adds much more to that equation—<p>

Natsume has strayed from Matoba after a small duration, but remains in close distance to listen. He catches the man's lips quirk, readying a witty response.

—his charm.

The fact that Natsume knows what that expression means embarrasses him. He covers his mouth with a black sleeve and turns away, hoping it will mask his confused grimace. But the fact that Natsume enjoys that wit (although it can become aggravating overtime) troubles him further. (Is he always looking too closely out of habit or interest?) It's not just the personal charm Natsume reveres, but his business demeanor. It's intimidating at first, but it's cool, collected, and sure.

He mentions this once to Nyanko-sensei, as a hopeful test to lighten the youkai's temper towards the exorcist, that there are nice qualities to detestable people and silver linings. But Nyanko-sensei spat in disgust. "What sort of garbage are you suggesting? Someone shows you a little kindness and suddenly they're a redeemable being. You then let that someone use and misguide you; look where that made you end up—" Unfortunately, the fight that followed and its tasteless ending were expected.

Natsume doesn't bring it up again. Instead, he keeps the secret admiration hidden.

For the time being, he will have to play along with Matoba's exorcist meeting requests and talk among the people and ayakashi here. Looking around, a lot of the exorcists seem preoccupied, but it's not hard to miss their curious glances and unsettling whispers. Humans are difficult to talk to.

Natsume spots an ayakashi alone by one of the expansive windows. Its attention seems lost in thought as its small eyes peer outside. (But ayakashi are also.) Regardless, he introduces himself and decides that maybe he can learn to improve his understanding.

"Your apprentice is very interested in ayakashi," a female attendant comments to Matoba, her head nodding slightly in the direction of said person.

Matoba looks over the vast room, beholding his charge talking with a shiki of the Fuse clan. He bites his cheek, somewhat humiliated and angry that the boy would still do this despite his warnings. But Matoba is resourceful; he wouldn't let himself be defeated by this small blunder.

"Actually, ayakashi are his specialty," he offers when turning around to face her. "He's unlike any other medium I've worked with. His abilities are much more natural and powerful. He can blend in effortlessly with them."

"That sounds quite useful," remarks the woman, taking in the boy from afar.

"It can be." Matoba nods before moving on with a small shrug. "Unfortunately, he often finds himself in danger. Hopefully I can help resolve him of such troubles."

Not receiving a reply right away, the exorcist becomes curious, turning around to see the young woman continuing to assess Natsume. One could not hear from their distance, but Natsume's soft and kind expressions could be clearly seen. "Is it perhaps because he looks and acts otherworldly?"

Matoba's lips twitch slightly and huffs out a bitter chuckle. "...Yes. That is a reason."

* * *

><p>How long does it take to prepare someone? Natori has fucked him before, so he must be fine by now. It's been two weeks since he last saw Natsume. That's enough time to stretch his patience.<p>

Matoba has prohibited Natori from entering the estate unless he is summoned. But he needs to check on the situation, and Natsume. He needs to see Natsume again. Natsume will be ready for him again.

Natori sweeps through the halls as quietly as he can. It's a Sunday; not many attendants or shiki would be roaming around the estate (from what Natori remembers when he visited the place when he was younger). It was a Sunday last time Natori was summoned; Matoba must be working with Natsume around his school schedule.

The room should be the same. It's secluded in the back of the east wing, a location not as reinforced as the west with enchantments and barriers. Sane ayakashi don't dare travel to the direction of the rising sun. The winds that sweep by effectively carry off and dilute the tainted smoke of the incense Matoba burns after sessions. Humans aren't as prone to picking up the smell of emotions, deceit, and veiled sex. Although, neither human nor ayakashi can detect those through the mask of enchanted smoke.

Natori nears the hall of the reserved room. The hall itself is dark; lights unlit despite the autumn's setting sun. The shoji allows light to pool through its thin paper into the hallway. There's no sound, no shuffling, no voices, no gasps, no moans. But Natori approaches all the same (as if there were those distinct signals). He makes sure his bare feet pad lightly, hopefully noiseless down the wooden floor, closing in on the room.

His heart hammers in his chest; he begins to feel sick with anticipation and lust. There is no sound that comes from the east wing room, yet he rests a hand on the door's handle. Inside, the sound of a cloth garment slides against the floor; Matoba must know he's here and may be about to acknowledge his unannounced arrival.

"Matoba?"

Natori's actions and breaths halt in stupefied horror — a voice much too soft and wary. Why isn't Matoba in the room? Why is Natsume still conscious? Is this not the day Matoba prepares him?

Natori retracts his hand, nearly stumbling over his feet upon backing away. Another shift in the room — he sees a figure shadowed against the screen.

"Do you need help opening the door?"

Natori darts down the hall from the way he came. As he rounds the corner, he hears the shoji slide open. He braces himself for a scream, but instead hears the shoji slam shut and charges into another figure. Ceramic cups clang against each other and thankfully the iron kettle does not crash nor spill.

"Why are you here?"

Natori reflexively pulls back, about to apologize profusely, but notices that the one he crashed into is Matoba. He's not supposed to be here. (He just wants to see him, make sure this is real, that Matoba is keeping his word.) Before Natori can find a reason (_an excuse_), the two exorcists hear dry retching down the hall.

Matoba sighs heavily, but holds Natori's attention from straying down the hall. "Are you here because of the arrangement? That business can easily be dealt with by a phone call or letter."

(It's not that, not that.) Natori swallows to prepare his throat, but it's harsh and dry and instead feels like heartburn. "I want… to help."

Matoba raises his brows. "What sort of _help_ could you give? Right now, I don't need you ruining my hard work and causing the boy to also get sick from the tea I give him. Don't ruin your pathetic opportunity and my compensation because of your untimely impulsivity."

The message is reinforced when a frail groan carries down the hall. Natori furrows his brows and clamps his teeth together. The younger exorcist watches, unsure of the other's conflict and feelings. (Of helplessness? Of longing? Of anger?)

Matoba takes a step next to Natori. "Now I have to explain to him that that person was a member of mine who mistook the room." He blinks over to Natori, his carnelian eyes cast forward, conflicted in thought and circumstance. The older man refuses to speak (his mind races instead), so the clan head continues.

"As for you wanting to help, I really can't allow that. It's too risky in the matter of his guardian beast and your compulsivity. You would compromise all the progress I have done with him." Black hair spills over his right shoulder when the exorcist leans closer to Natori, their arms resting against each other's. "You're free to listen because I'm afraid watching will only make you jealous." Matoba blows a teasing whisper against Natori's jaw. "You're really desperate, aren't you?"

The black-robed exorcist pulls away with the conflicting touch of warmth, but Natori _has to know_ — with an unintentionally hard grip on Matoba's arm, Natori asks, "Why did he get sick?"

What a stupid question, Matoba muses with a smirk. He shakes his arm, signaling the other exorcist to remove his hold. "Didn't you know?"

Natori waits, watching the muscles in Matoba's face for any lies. But it's all mocking, like it has always been between them — both from infamous clans each known for their own fault of cowardice or deceit.

"He gets sick from the mere sight of you."

Matoba turns to the direction of the hidden eastern room. Natori stretches out his hand, to hinder the upcoming session, but his fingers are sliced by the tip of the retreating man's ponytail. His elegant, but simple, dark robes flutter behind him, tea set stable and noiseless by his steady movements. Entering the room, Natori catches Matoba's eye soften when addressing Natsume.

The screen is softly shut, barring out those unwelcome and uninvited to refuge.

* * *

><p>One finger.<p>

He has to start with a measured pace. He knows Natsume has taken more than this (all accumulated in one night), but that is too much too soon. The boy would recognize the aching sore, and that would be the end of Natori's, including Matoba's, exchange. Preparation must be timed with a mindful pace, generous with lubrication and stretching, and ensuring that the recipient receives a reward for enduring this.

Natsume's muscles are understandably tense at the beginning. (He hasn't been touched there since his violation.) But gentle coaxes of hands, peppered kisses to his face, and soft requests yield his resistance. Every time he tightens, Matoba passes a hand down his hip, squeezes his hand, pecks his forehead. Sometimes the man has to request him to relax (as much as his reflexive muscles could). Natsume is never met with anger or violence.

Natori, no doubt, would want Natsume to reciprocate kisses too, Matoba muses. He casts his eyes over Natsume's sweaty face, pants and lips both dry. He has Natsume rinse his mouth with water, not wanting the residual drug to affect him also. (A note he will have to remind Natori of.)

Matoba removes his finger from the boy's asshole to instead introduce him to practiced kissing. He's sloppy and a novice. With each correct reciprocation, Matoba pets down Natsume's back or leg or waist. With each independent kiss, Natsume receives a stroke to his dick.

Reintroducing a finger, Matoba nuzzles his face against Natsume's jaw, pecking lightly. Natsume shivers in his grasp, pressing his fingers into the exorcist's arms. (Never are bruises or cut left behind.) The finger sinks in, held and pushed and swallowed by the allowing muscles. Experimentally, Matoba curves the digit, pressing against a spongey wall.

Immediately, the blond gasps and twists from the new pressure, beginning to feel his climax peak. Matoba notices his hand becoming wet with precum and gently coaxes Natsume to remain on his back. To reach orgasm, the finger is pushed in shallowly as the other hand tenderly pulls and strokes the boy's arousal. Natsume comes with a stuttered gasp, hands twisting into the sheets with raised hips.

Matoba pets down Natsume's thigh as he recovers, bleary and worn-out. He checks his heart-beat, his pulse: nothing abnormal. Matoba wipes the sweat from Natsume's face and cleans the release from his stomach with a cloth.

Sandalwood incense is lit and distributed throughout the room. Natsume slightly stirs on the futon, descending into a fatigued nap. Matoba waits a half hour before opening the outside doors, airing out the confiding smoke to the eastern winds.

* * *

><p>Notes: I thought to share some thoughts of this series since this is the last part. I hope you were able to catch what I mention, or even bring up something that I have overlooked.<p>

As for the significance of the title, I wanted to tie this last part to the cycle of karma. Upon my search, I discovered that lotus flowers symbolize karma in Asian traditions. The flower carries its seeds as it blooms; the seed the cause, the blooming the effect. You can read more about it with a simple web search, but there isn't anything deeper (like relating to Buddhism, besides 'karma') that I intend. Unless there is somehow a connection I am not aware of.

It's funny; the Matoba and Natori clans' reasons for infamy have reversed and instead reflected on Seiji and Shuuichi as individuals (although each both stay true to their clan's flaws). Seiji (as will be read in further chapters) will not admit to his faults because of his fear of facing repercussions, all the while easily lying. Shuuichi began this ordeal by deceiving and misguiding Natsume. He is a coward by continuing this and also avoiding punishment.

When I was outlining the last part, I found that these chapters have similar themes to Part 1. This theme is "firsts", as to when Natsume first drank sake and now his first exorcist meeting. Both are seen as instances that have no lingering effects, but there is certainly a domino effect that happens because of these.


	2. White Lies and Half-Truths

Understandably, Natsume has trouble with two fingers. By preparing him quickly, Matoba knew he was going to encounter this predicament. (How would the boy even stretch to three? At that point, an average dick would be able to penetrate. Natsume wasn't given this paced time to prepare when that happened before.)

If Natori has come unannounced already, it is sure to happen again. He will ask about Natsume's status, request to help, demand to take him as is.

(There is always confusion and a dull ache written on Natsume's face.)

The boy yelps and cringes when Matoba tries spreading two digits — not even an inch inside. His perspired face scrunches in discomfort and he fists the bleached sheets beneath him. Matoba stops, but keeps the digits inside. With his other hand, he thumbs the boy's thigh in tender circles.

Natsume keens, throws his head back with a groan. Finally, Matoba is able to push both fingers into the boy. He lets the muscles adjust and squeeze and test the intrusion. Gently, slightly, he wiggles the fingers, but Natsume doesn't lock down harshly on them like on earlier occasions. Matoba then bends them, petting the hot walls.

His breathing is still heavy, his body still tense. Natori will come by again, and Natsume is hardly ready.

Matoba looks to the lidded amber irises, and sighs. The boy's heavy panting subsides to mind the figure above him. When a hand rubs up and down on his thigh, Natsume releases a large breath, gentle sighs accompanying thereafter.

Matoba gently prods again. Natsume's muscles grip his fingers, pulling him in with a moan. Surprised, relieved, the man smooths a hand up Natsume's forehead, unsettling his messy flaxen hair to place a kiss there. Now sounds an open-mouthed moan.

(His blocked conscious wants to call out, but the reasons are forgotten. What is being done to him doesn't mean anything, won't mean anything.)

Natori will come again, he will come soon.

Natsume is not ready, and neither is Matoba.

* * *

><p>"Master Matoba," a tengu-masked shiki begins with a meek voice, "an uninvited guest arrived."<p>

The light conversation ends with an apology. "I'm sorry. There's something I have to take care of." The woman exorcist waves her hand and thanks Matoba for the pleasant small talk.

The clan leader follows the four-foot shiki out of the grand room and to the checkpoint down the hall. There are two clan members stationed, switched off every two hours, but installing this security turns out to be very useful. Now neither unwanted ayakashi or unwanted exorcists may enter unaccounted for.

It wasn't hard to guess who the intruder could be. Matoba wonders if he should start keeping a tally of every time this happens.

The man's presence is more boisterous than usual. Perhaps he is making up for the anxiety. He smiles, tilting his head slightly downward, before greeting the clan head. "Hey, Matoba. I noticed that I'm not on the invitation list. Care to explain why? Look," Natori spreads his arms and slides his hands down the earthly-toned robes, "I even came in the attire you like."

Matoba huffs out loudly, unsettling his two subordinates. "You should know why you're not accounted for. In fact, you're not even allowed on my premises without request." He grabs Natori's bicep and pulls forward. "Come with me," he orders in a low voice.

Natori shakes off the man's hold and his cheery facade. There's a glimpse of hostility before Natori averts his eyes. (Not in public.) Matoba thanks the members before guiding Natori to the entrance.

Silently, they walk next to each other. Although his arm hurts, Natori doesn't dare nurse it to give Matoba the satisfaction. But said exorcist purposely bumps into the arm, causing Natori to hiss both from the renewed pain and his frustration. "Why is this taking so long? It's been many weeks, Matoba."

What an impatient man. The younger exorcist sighs heavily, increasing his pace to discuss this further from the meeting. "I'm not like you whose rushes jeopardizes things. I'm not going to make this boy tolerant of such a drug, nor let him know what's being done to him.

"It's hard enough leading his beast away. I often have to use sleeping spells on it, and that seriously cuts into my supply, even with your exchange."

"… how far?"

He knows what Natori is asking, but inquires nonetheless. If he wants to know, he'll make him ask more than once. "… excuse me?

And Natori swallows, adjusts the sleeves of his kimono. Matoba's eye flickers down to the movement, still aware of the man's discomfort and remaining scars. "How far… have you gotten with him?" Natori visibly struggles with his words, conflicted both by spite and want.

Three weeks. How much has he been able to do with Natsume during that time? How many fingers, how many kisses, how many moans, touching, and orgasms?

After dwelling on the silence between them, Matoba offers bluntly, "Two."

Natori stops in place. Noticing the man no longer beside him, Matoba looks back. His head is bent in just the right way with hair covering his face that makes him just enough unreadable. But the stiff frame gives him away.

"I can't get past two fingers," Matoba repeats for clarification, watching the other.

Natori's fingers fidget, joints tight and unused. He swallows an uncomfortable lump in his throat. Only two…? "What else have you done?"

Matoba furrows his eyebrows and frowns. "Is now really the time to be asking these things?"

The rebuttal is careful. The younger exorcist can see how sharp the other's eyes have become when his head lifts, his words hissing out with quiet menace.

"I told you not to fuck him."

Mulling over too long would lead Natori's speculation, so Matoba regulates his answers at a normal pace. It's composed and cool as always, but he makes sure not to tack on a smirk. He doesn't want to deal with the sight of pointed teeth. "I haven't."

But it casts suspicion regardless. Natori wants to prove that he isn't being paranoid, that their exchange is just as it was laid out, and that the cursed exorcist hasn't played true to his clan's fate of broken promises. "Did you kiss him?"

"Yes." As much guidance as he could orchestrate and comfort during their sessions.

"Did you make him orgasm?"

"Yes." As many times as needed during their sessions.

"There's no way that you haven't fucked Natsume. You did, didn't you?"

Impatient. Disgustingly impatient and naive and fickle. Matoba clenches his fists and purses his lips. Is Natori envious, or just mad by this point? "Please locate your shoes," he tells the man before slipping on a pair himself.

Both. It must be both. He's been wanting and deprived for so long (his own fault, a grave mistake on his part). He's so despicable and desperate, rudely arriving and grasping at straws.

"You're keeping him for the time being and love dragging out anything that has to involve me. This has been going on ever since I met you; wanting to best me out of every hunt or menial game that I come across. Haven't you grown out of your childish habits?"

Matoba feels the muscles in his neck and throat tighten, nearly inclined to throw him out by his collar (but that's too close, too roused for the position he is in). So instead, he resorts to his typical mockery of faults. "I have self-control and know how much Natsume can take at a time, unlike you."

"You're saying that you really did, didn't you?" Natori nearly sounds breathless, as if he's trying to disbelief one of his worst fears.

Catching this, Matoba lets out a breathy laugh, wanting to stretch that despaired face just a bit further, see how much he can pry before this becomes too dangerous. "You know, Shuuichi, the more you say that I fucked Natsume, the more I feel inclined to."

"_Don't_."

The clan head raises a brow at him. This man really is confusing. How helpless has he become since they last worked together (semi) cooperatively?

"...Let me see him." Natori's head is slightly bowed, eyes averted to the side of the other exorcist.

It must be that, then — an obsessed fool. Matoba sighs heavily, patting down his haori before approaching the entrance. "I'm not allowing that," comes his stern voice. He opens the foyer door to show out Natori. "You know the reasons why, but it sounds like I have to reiterate them once more to you."

It's made to come out clear and cold and definite. No more confusion, no more dropped-by visits, no more unneeded panic. "You are not welcome here for the time being."

Stay like a good dog and come when you're called.

* * *

><p>Sprawled on a third floor windowsill, Nyanko-sensei flicks his ears to a pair of voices below. When he recognizes a voice (one that he hasn't heard in months), his restful purring ceases and he turns to the man on the ground. He talks heatedly with the other exorcist, Matoba, not polite enough to lower his voice.<p>

His yellow eyes glare from above, hyperaware to the threat before the manor's entrance. How should he attack? With a blinding light? A beastly form with claws and teeth and unrestrained mercilessness? Sensei blinks to keep himself focused. That cursed exorcist better not be involved with that bastard any further. Perhaps they both need a reminder.

"And why not? I'm also an exorcist and should be included in your self-promoting meetings."

"I didn't call for you, nor do I need you involved at the time." Matoba signals with his hand for assistance; two white-masked shiki creep forward. "These shiki will show you out along the right path so you won't get lost."

Natori's hand tugs on his other sleeve. His own shiki must rest within, Matoba notes, and adds to the instructions, "Attempts to stray inside will result in excommunication."

When Natori freezes in place, Matoba assesses the other from the bottom-up. "I've had enough of your unannounced visits. They are unnecessary and honestly a huge bother. You don't help with anything; you only make it worse."

The black-haired exorcist flicks his eye to the forest behind Natori. The shiki follow his command and guide Natori from the manor, but not without a frustrated glare to Matoba. Somehow he has kept himself somewhat composed during this ordeal. A mocking sneer is returned to the departing exorcist before the clan leader reenters the estate.

The door hasn't even closed when Matoba enters the foyer and sees Natsume approaching. Quickly kicking off his sandals, he meets Natsume to break his stride. By now, Natori hasn't even made it to the beginning of the forest, and it's still possible that he might enter from another entrance. Matoba needs to rid of the rising heat and anxiety from appearing on his face.

"Why aren't you at the meeting?" his voice strains, gruff from impending nerves.

Natsume visibly flinches and steps back. But he won't be bullied by Matoba's bad mood. "Nanase wondered where you were and asked me to seek you."

Nanase 'wondering' is her excuse to meddle in this ordeal. Matoba will have to talk to her later because now… Natsume shouldn't be near this entrance, or any others for that matter.

Matoba tries to portray himself as level-headed, but he feels the long-forgotten, cold panic. He swipes a clammy palm against his robes. "You're wearing on my reputation, Natsume. Go back now." The clan head notices a few members appear from behind the blond. Quickly snatching Natsume's wrist, he approaches them for their reports farther from the foyer, deeper into the manor.

The boy is tempted to break off the contact, but the situation feels a bit too strange, along with the hand that's clasped tightly around him. It's hot, and sweaty. But Matoba isn't paying mind to him. Natsume looks up to the taller people. It isn't hard to discern the worried looks on Matoba's members; Matoba is a different story.

"Am I not allowed to leave for a break?" He instead attempts to break through the surrounding exorcists' reports. He hardly registers the conversation as it is disclosed discreetly to their master. 'Checkpoints' and 'security' sounds unsettling. He tries once more. "Is something wrong?"

The head exorcist dismisses himself briefly to acknowledge the distance of the entrance and Natsume. Still too close, a little further. Matoba nods to his men and they carry on further into the manor towards the meeting hall. "Is seeking me a break?"

Has Matoba forgotten he still has a grip on Natsume? The boy pulls away from the grip and is thankfully released. Matoba immediately turns back to Natsume, a fleeting glimpse of dishevel and panic, but Natsume carries through. "It can be a part of it. It may as well since someone requested it."

The resounding snort sounds frustrated and annoyed. Matoba casts a quick look to his members before insisting the boy again. "Fine, but you have to come to me if you request a break. Right now, I will be incapacitated. You will stay in the meeting hall until then."

"Do you think I'm a risk?" Natsume furrows his brows, displeased at the lack of movement Matoba has restricted him to. Since when has Matoba given him such curt orders? (Lessons were different; they were guided and observed and careful.) Natsume wouldn't mind a small break from the gathering; waiting around for a few hours can be tiring. It's not like he contributes much at them either.

"Remain in the hall until I release you," Matoba orders much more firmly, his chest crowded with heat and anxiety. The three members glance over interested.

"I'm not your shiki," Natsume retorts bitterly, but he quickly shuts his lips together. With his head slightly bowed, he keeps his eyes up, defying.

Matoba feels his face heat up far more than it should. As much as Matoba wants to lose his temper, he can't. Building confidence and trust comes at a cost. (Everything is in danger.) He grits his teeth and hisses out through his teeth. "My shiki will assist you then."

Natsume tries to step forward, but the courage has long since receded. A frown pulls on his mouth, frustrated and unsettled. There is still a bothersome inkling. It's not just the other members Matoba has been consulting with. He wasn't supposed to notice or admit to it again, but there is a change to Matoba. He's usually patient with Natsume, but now there's an authoritative rush. Knowing and definite and secretive and confident.

"Stay there," is Matoba Seiji's definite words before Natsume is escorted through the meeting hall doors by a white-masked shiki.

"I don't like my prey tough from abuse, Matoba."

The exorcist feels his heart drop before locating the scolding voice. The cat has already stepped through the small turmoil and distraction to be at Matoba's feet. Panic riddles his insides, and he is just barely able to take a breath. Has the beast witnessed or overheard his encounter with Natori?

He doesn't waver for too long. There is still a danger outside and a security breach if Natori was able to get by.

Composing himself, Matoba shakes his head and walks past the youkai to approach a group of exorcists and shiki that a member must have gathered. He still feels the bothersome presence of the beast. He thought that the manor's seals would have been enough to at least subdue the annoyance. "I haven't time for this," he mutters lowly to Nyanko-sensei, nodding to the members to continue their debriefing.

"With the way you have been pampering him up till now, I was afraid he would become too soft." Nyanko-sensei eyes two men scurry past westward before looking to the head exorcist.

Matoba scoffs when feeling the youkai's eyes on him. He doesn't bother with a rebuttal. If softening the boy too much raised concern from his youkai guardian, he must be doing well.

"If you want to continue assisting him, you must keep in mind my preference."

Another set of exorcists are directed northward. "How I interact with Natsume is between us."

Nyanko-sensei tenses at the distasteful man's quip, but remains silent to pick up the exorcists' mutterings. A flurry of faintly panicked voices is enough to reassure the youkai's suspicion. Natori wasn't an invited guest. A foot nearly steps on him, but the emitting energy was enough to attract surrounding attention and ward off the man on his assignment.

"You know, that bastard exorcist isn't allowed near Natsume." Noticing the head exorcist's flinch, the youkai sneers, grin wide and sharp. Finally he is able to witness and mock a fault of Matoba's. If only he was able to catch his face. "He somehow breached your security, didn't he?"

"I'm taking care of that right now," Matoba exasperates in a tired sigh. "Two east," he directs before finally sparing a look at the youkai below him. What a frightening youkai, Matoba comments to himself when seeing Nyanko-sensei's twisted features. No doubt it's delighting in his slight.

Nyanko-sensei entertains the thought of hunting down the exorcist that Matoba had dismissed not too long ago. How satisfying would it be to tear the damned man's leg off. "I could be of help if he returns."

Recognizing the rising blood-thirst in Nyanko-sensei, Matoba dismisses the idea (and hopes that Natori isn't stupid enough to return). "Beasts aren't useful to me. Please dismiss yourself."

Matoba meets Nyanko-sensei's warning eyes. "I don't want to sense that bastard again. By this point, I'm sure Natsume would be more lenient if I acted on my own. Not only would I remove such a threat, but it would then take him out of this contract and any other sort of dealings with exorcists."

"In the human world, we handle this as diplomatically as we can. Killing is too easy a solution for you youkai. It only causes trouble for us."

The cat-youkai clicks his tongue. "You should know better than to write me off so easily, youngling." With a heavy exhale, Nyanko-sensei stations himself outside the meeting's door.

"Monitor and reinforce the entrances. I do not think he has the audacity to try again, but it's best to be prepared." Matoba casts a glimpse to the cat-youkai by the doors before dispersing the final members. He keeps a defined stride when he approaches, pointedly ignoring Nyanko-sensei.

"I'll increase precautions in the forest. You both may leave after the meeting."

The youkai's slanted eyes never leave Matoba, even when he disappears past the hall door.

Matoba is quiet when he enters, not wanting to draw attention to his hurried absence. He doesn't expect Natsume, nearby and without company, to immediately hound him for answers.

"What happened?" The boy keeps his voice quiet, but his amber eyes remain strong through his fallen fringe.

(What sort of worry would this be? Of his own safety or of others?)

Matoba signals him to follow, away from the door and eavesdropping gossipers. "Just a minor security breach. Ayakashi tend to cross the manor's border when the sun sets for instance." He eyes Nanase from the corner of his eye. She feigns interest elsewhere, but of the years Matoba has known her he knows better than to say too much. She has many resources at her disposal and has demonstrated such on more than one occasion to Matoba — requested and unwarranted.

The exorcist gently guides Natsume by his shoulder to stand in front of him and leans down, blocking Nanase's view of both of their faces. "You needn't worry. It was chased away."

Unsettled by their close distance, Natsume takes a small step back from the man. His clammy hand twists into the black haori. "Was the ayakashi…?"

The question is left unsaid, cut short by lack of mental preparation. Matoba could guess the easy answer aloud (_Natori's Natori's Natori's_), but that wouldn't accomplish anything. Instead it would rattle this questioning trust Natsume is displaying.

(There is a strong need to pull away, separate himself from cunning exorcists and sly humans. An incredible alertness bears down on him, more so sluggish and wearisome. It's meant to be helpful, but it turns out to be another bother.)

It wouldn't matter either way if the 'ayakashi' belonged to Natori — Natsume believes so anyway. "You're safe here, Natsume," Matoba reassures in a softer voice, making sure to mask his pained grin with kindness. (But Matoba continues to question this himself. Natori coming this close, so dangerously close as of late, is endangering this arrangement.)

"You're very important, Natsume."

It's meant to be reassuring, Natsume knows, but this man is always one step ahead, talented with charm and careful with his cryptic words.

Matoba assesses Natsume's hesitance and continues. "If you feel like this was too recent of a visit, you may be absent from the one scheduled Wednesday." Met with silent acknowledgement, he adds, "You may work on lessons and homework for the remaining time of the meeting. I'll fetch you when it's over."

There's still hesitation. Natsume's brows knit together, his fingers picking at the end of his sleeve. Matoba softens his voice to sound reassuring. "Your cat is outside the door. Don't worry." (And he means this. If anything, that beast of his will strike down Natori without pause or speculation. Not like humans have, like he has to.)

With a quiet thank you as his dismissal, Natsume leaves the meeting hall. And expectedly, Nanase saunters over to Matoba.

"The more you continue this, the more dangerous it will become. I'm not going to hide the fact I know he arrives unannounced."

Matoba turns his head away, eyeing the invited guests. Most of them seem familiar, but there are always new faces, or masks. Some don't like to be associated with this business.

Matoba has no choice in the matter.

"It is bothersome, yet you tempt him. You want to get him into trouble. He is childish, but you remain that way also." Nanase follows his line of vision, but it's nothing out of the ordinary — just typical surveillance or excuses to ignore her.

"I'll take note, Nanase," the clan head comments off-handedly. Having a lecture right after a stressful situation is never good for him — he's too explosive, and Nanase knows, has known for years, what subjects to press.

"You don't need to keep proving your superiority over him."

Matoba pulls himself further away from the guests. He doesn't want this conversation, or the obvious bite in his voice, to be heard by the exorcists. They are a small community, decreasing each year; they always find opportunities to gossip about new practices — or other clans' business. "He won't improve himself if I don't, and he won't grow unless he's taught."

"As does his self-proclaimed teacher," the older woman tuts back, eyes giving a quick glance around them before continuing. "I am still having trouble determining why you're doing this, but I'm sure you're not completely sure either. You only aggravate the issue and don't suggest what needs to be fixed."

Matoba wants to rebut her claim, but reluctantly realizes that may be true. "He's a terrible learner if he continues to not understand. Forgetting about reflection is not my responsibility." Natori was reckless and driven with his learning despite warnings from his senior exorcists. He is overbearing in his growth, just like a wisteria left untamed.

"...I don't believe he considers you a mentor." Nanase nearly adds 'anymore,' but she isn't sure if that is true in the first place. Natori, just as Matoba, is stubborn. He had grown in his abilities since crossing various exorcists, including the one around his age. For the jobs they had to painstakingly cooperate on, each were able to gain something from the experience.

"He'll reconsider all of this." She notices a twitch of a grin and a quick breathy laugh, and shakes her head. "You have him high-strung and desperate on this. You've done a great job on that. but imagine the benefits we would reap if you applied that motivation to higher priorities. But your passion runs deep, doesn't it?" Nanase's smile is sharp, meant to unsettle the exorcist (but he's used to these tactics; they're just annoying).

Matoba pointedly ignores. He doesn't know how to counter that. It's something that has been going on since he has met Natori. A rivalry of sorts, uncomplicated and not. When younger, he didn't think of what it meant, and now that it continues, to this sort of dangerous point, he doesn't want to evaluate it any more. It's best left as a persistent conflict.

"...He's wasted potential," Nanase bitterly adds after a few moments, looking out the large windows on the meeting room. Matoba snaps his head to her, brows furrowed. "I'm sure you didn't intend for this at first."

The clan head firstly scoffs before offering, "I don't keep around useless things. Hence why Natori is often absent, and when called, will only make it to my heels." Perhaps this is clarification, but having to explain this to Nanase feels redundant. "Natsume is naturally capable, and _that_ will not wither away."

"Although you claim Natori as being the only irresponsible one, you and your apprentice are also. It's only a matter of time. As your 'member', I hope for your and the child's safety, but I hope you learn much more than you are willing to teach to the others."

The clan head passes her a sharp glare. She knows when it's time for her to stop lecturing, but it really says something that she has to continue doing so.

"Continue weighing your thoughts and costs about whatever purpose this serves. And don't forget your own reflection."

Matoba isn't sure why Nanase suggested that only Natori would reconsider.

It's been three months,

and Matoba has doubts.

* * *

><p>Notes: For the sake of convenience and to avoid over-complication, Natsume's friends and family are left out. :(<p>

My intention was for the story to be about Natsume's struggle, but more and more events keep developing as I think about these characters. As Natsume still learns how to discern among intent of others and trust, now comes into play the people he is now (unfortunately) involved in that aren't making his growth any better.

Theme 2 is hiding/secrets.


End file.
